Tuesday, November 8, 2011

I was thinking about a paper I wrote in 12 grade about "where I wanted to be in 10 years". Obviously, ten years has come and gone, and getting closer and closer to "where do I want to be in 20 years?"

"In ten years" I wanted to have a singing career. I don't. I barely have a voice. (Although the botox shots in my vocal cords have helpd SO much, I will write about it soon)

Instead of a singing career, I have a beautiful home. A handsome husband who is a wonderful father. I can eat whatever I want and stay 100lbs. I am starting (what seems like) a fun new job, and getting a nice pay increase. I am going to Cancun for Christmas. And I have my sweet, adorable, funny, beautiful Georgia. I love my inlaws, I have the relationship with my Dad that I always wanted, my family lives close to me, and getting up in the morning never sucks.

This isn't what I pictured. But it is a good picture. And I have to keep reminding myself when I want more, that I already have so much to be thankful for.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

It's on the little table right when you first walk in to our living room. Chris says he is embarrassed to have a picture of "just him" and thinks it looks, um, obnoxious-which is why I ask. I don't think he minds THAT much because he only made one funny (half joking) comment, and I haven't heard anything else regarding the photos, but I'm curious as to what everyone else thinks.

First you should know that I have four other wedding portraits in the living room. One 8x10, one on ginormo canvas (I forget the size), and a 5x7 and 4x5 on our mantel plus these two individual 5x7's. I have two more 5x7's I want to hang up, and I've also framed our invitation. Is this overkill? Not to mention, my wedding album is on display in my dining room for anyone who is forced asks to look at it.

I loved our wedding so much. I loved every detail, every moment. I had the BEST, most fun day ever. So looking at my photos makes me happy. It's my house-so I can put up whatever pictures I want, but at the same time, I feel like I'm a few steps away from weirdoville.

I know my wedding was only a year ago, so it's still fresh, but I am wondering, do you guys have wedding photos all up in your house?

Anywho, moving on.

I was just reading about some Victoria Secret Model who just had a baby, and she is still nursing and pumping for her 9 month baby, blah blah blah she is so awesome.

Okay. She does like one photo shoot for 3 hours a day or something and get paid twenty zillion dollars, and I'm supposed to commend her for still nursing? (FYI, before we go any further, no one is actually asking me to commend her. I am just defensive because I had to go back to work and couldn't swing nursing/pumping...so somehow I am going to make this the fault of a Victoria Secrete Model). I work 40 hours a week! Bite Me!

Ahem. Where was I? Oh yes. Miranda Kerr. Fuck you and your breastfeeding pictures. You have a nanny, and a butler, you are married to Orlando Bloom-who is way hotter than UGGS spokesman Tom Brady ( take that Giselle!) and you still get to nurse your baby. I hate you. I hope your boobs sag to your knees when you stop breastfeeding.

Haha. Rant over. Actually I don't care, but I really was annoyed for half a second until I remembered my policy of not being jealous of people who have lives that are 100% unattainable. I will never be a Victoria's Secret Model. I never could have been one, so there is no point in being jealous.

I'm like, jealous of my neighbor with really nice hair who goes to yoga every night after work. She always has on the cutest workout outfits, and walks all around the neighborhood with her pink yoga mat. She probably eats organic every night, she probably doesn't drink, I'm sure she does not have pubic hair, and I bet she has never drooled over D&G sunglasses because labels and material items don't matter to you when you do yoga because you are so self satisfied. Bitch.

See, I could do yoga every night maybe if I got my shizz together, but instead I'm obsessed with hanging airbrushed pictures of myself around the house.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Remember how I told you I was feeling a little BLAH in the fashion department? Lots of slacks and blouses have been gracing my frame these days. Today as I was getting ready for work, I decided to wear something that I've neglected for whatever reason. I pull out a little dress that I don't think has EVER seen the light of day. I'm pretty sure I have never worn it.

It's a summer dress, but can be (as you see) "winterized" with the right accessories. The actual problem with the dress is that it needs a belt around the waist-but I can't find anything that doesn't look stupid. I covered up the minor flaw with a sweater, and I think it looks cute. Here are the deetz:

Dress: LOFT

Sweater: Express

Shoes: Jessica Simpson

Tights: Guess

Bag: Express

Necklace: LOFT

Earrings: Anthropologie

Bracelet: H&M

Ring-J-Crew

Sunglasses: Wet Seal (OMG I know-they were only $2) AND I am wearing glasses in this picture because I did not have any make up on yet. I should have at least thrown on lipstick but whateves.

So I go into work, proud of my fashion accomplishment today. I think I look back to my old fun, funky- not -mom self. There is a spring in my step, and a bounce in my bootie. I'm prancing around the office in my heels, feeling like a million bucks.

All of a sudden, at 10AM on the dot, in walks a coworker of mine. She looks like a supermodel. She has hair to DIE for. She is always dressed to the nines. I stupidly think we are in the same league fashion-wise. Naive little thing that I am, I'm all Yeah, two fashionable chicks, talking fashion, I am so cool again. I proceed to gush:

"I LOVE your dress!"

"Thank you. It's Gieanchy."

Um...I have no idea who the fuck that is, but I smile and nod and pretend I have TONS of Gieanchy pieces casually hanging in my closet. I try to recover.

"Ahem, and I adore you belt. It totally makes the outfit."

ADORE? Did I really just say ADORE?? Not to mention I'm totally jealous, because this belt would look PERFECT with my outfit.

"Isn't it beautiful? It's vintage, and I mean VINTAGE Donna Karan. It would look beautiful with your dress."

I want so badly to say "YES! IT IS THE BELT I AM LOOKING FOR! I REALLY ACTUALLY WANTED TO WEAR MY VINTAGE DONNA KARAN CORSET BELT TODAY, BUT...UM..MINE IS IN THE WASH!"

I'm so fashionably defeated. Donna Karan vs Jessica Simpson? There is no contest. She is Lady Gaga, and I am Ke$ha. My day of fashion has been ruined by the office Carrie Bradshaw.

I am the office Barrie Cadshaw.

I sit there in my little LOFT dress, smile, and decide not to ask her about her shoes.